Welcome To Jurassic Park
by lovingcaptainswan
Summary: Emma is an aspiring paleontologist working towards her PhD who was given an amazing opportunity. Killian is a big game hunter and dinosaur enthusiast. It's going to be a long week. Captain Swan Oneshot. Jurassic Park AU. *may or may not expand*


"Oh my god."

Emma's eyes widened and she dropped her backpack to the ground as she took a couple of recklessly quick steps towards the treeline, her eyes focused on a large indentation in the thick mud. She stopped and reached for her camera, zooming in slowly.

"Bloody hell. We're really here now, aren't we?"

She heard a thickly accented voice behind her, who it belonged to she couldn't place, but Emma's focus was elsewhere. "It even looks fresh," she mumbled, awestruck, and peered through the lense of her camera, fighting against the fog and dense brush to catch a glimpse of what could have made the track. "All these years of grad school, looking at fossils in old photographs…"

She stepped forward.

"Don't get too close, love."

A hissed retort formed on her lips and died in her throat when a bush rustled in the distance. A shiver ran down her spine and she froze, every muscle tensed, images of old monster movies running through her mind as it came back to her that these weren't fossils that they were dealing with. She took a hesitant step backwards, heaving a sigh (that was mirrored by the rest of the group) and relaxing when another breeze blew through. _It's just the wind, Emma. Get your act together, this is once in a lifetime shit. _She sucked in a slow, shaky breath and raised the camera back to her eye. She couldn't tell what made the print from here, maybe not at all, but she knew one thing for sure as she stared down at the clawed stamp in the mud – she wasn't in Tallahassee anymore.

Emma turned on her heel and practically dove head-first back into the trunk of one of the two vans they had arrived in, digging through assorted bags and trunks rabidly until - _success_ – she found a thick book of photographs with scribbled marker scrawled over them that had been stuffed loosely into an open backpack pocket. A gift from a fellow colleague, teacher and world renowned paleontologist, Robert Gold, who'd been a part of the last team that had been there some months ago. It was brimming with snapshots of tracks and plant life (something that David had pored through for hours on the plane trip there) and pages upon pages of notes matched with a good guess at what had created them.

She walked back towards the jungle edge and leaned forward, peering through her camera once again with the utmost scrutiny, fussing with the settings until it came into clear focus. Her finger stilled over the button, just about to click a shot of her own when a dark mess of floppy hair filled her frame. She glanced up to see the back of a dark haired man, dressed almost entirely in black with a rather intimidating hunting rifle slung over his shoulder, who also appeared, from this angle, to not have a particular penchant for shaving.

"Seriously?" She sighed and let the camera slip the few inches back to her chest, where it was hanging safely from a leather strap around her neck. "Okay," she turned to David. He had been chosen for his work in paleobotany and she'd known him since highschool – two nerds with a certain proclivity for digging up old things and the first _paleontology experts_ invited to the island without their doctorates. "Who's the asshole messing up my shot and why is he here?"

David chuckled and grimaced, eying the gun and mouthing _"wasn't my idea". _Emma rolled his eyes as he followed after his wife, Mary Margaret Blanchard-Nolan, an ex-biology student who had abandoned the major for journalism and had developed some critical connections - connections that got her the job. She was here for press purposes and she was also here for David. _"No husband of mine is going on an adventure to an island_ full of dinosaurs _without me, David Nolan!" _Emma could still hear the fight that had echoed through the halls of her apartment building after _that_ particular discussion.

The rest of the group she didn't know well or hadn't been introduced to yet. The only other person that she remembered was a cameraman named Robin. His experience had been in the filming of a few documentaries featured on Animal Planet. She'd heard him talking on the car ride to their site about getting up close and personal with a few "cats", which she assumed meant lions, if the tattoo on his arm meant anything.

But she did not remember _this _guy. He must have arrived in the second van.

The dark-haired man swung his rifle back over his shoulder as he stood up from where he had been hunched over the deep imprint in the mud, making his way back to the group with such a natural saunter she had to stifle a scoff, settling instead for widening her eyes and glancing him up and down critically. He was tall, good looking for sure, but the utter arrogance in his expression made her walls shoot up in double time. His blue eyes were bright and full of excitement when his gaze finally met hers as he made his way back to the group – and unfortunately, her.

"Did I hear someone call for me?"

Emma rolled her eyes again, putting a hand on her hip as he approached.

"Killian Jones," he smirked, holding out a proffered hand, withdrawing it slowly when she stared at it like he'd offered her a poisonous snake. He slid his tongue over his bottom lip and quirked a brow, tipping his head to the side in an unasked question. "Well… it's nice to meet you as well, love."

Emma felt a flutter of butterflies at the cheeky grin that made his eyes light up, but quickly shoved it back down, slightly bewildered by the feeling and chalking the sensation up to the fact that it'd been a while. You didn't work towards your PhD in vertebrate paleontology by partying with frat boys (ok, maybe he was a little old to be a frat boy), and you _definitely_ didn't get offered the job as a research assistant on a trip with the greats by melting into a puddle at every cute smile thrown her way when there was work to be done.

Besides, she had a boyfriend. Sort of. If on again off again, Neal _I'll-be-in-Canada-but-we-can-still-make-this-work-babe_ Cassidy whom she hadn't seen in seven months and hadn't called in three and a half counted as a boyfriend, but yeah… it'd been a while.

She turned back towards the van to finish unpacking. She may be a lowly assistant compared to Mr. Big-Shot with his giant gun over there and they may be in the middle of the damned jungle but there was still such a thing as common courtesy and Emma Swan would _not_ be won over by a jerk with a cute smile.

Those days were long, _long _over.

Unfortunately, he didn't seem to know how over those days were and he trailed behind her, reaching for another bag as she struggled with the unforeseeably heavy piece of luggage -_ what the hell, did this thing have bricks in it or something? God damn _- she had picked up.

"Do you need a hand?"

"I'm fine."

"I see that," he nodded, that same smile pulling at his lips again as she heaved the probable trunk of bricks into her arms and walked it back to where they were setting up camp. He followed close behind (she suspected he was waiting to help in case she stumbled, and there was no way that this wasn't some sort of extended pick up routine. No man with a natural smile that smug was that much of a gentleman). "As for my reasons for being here, let's just say I'm one of those types that never quite grew out of that stage as a boy."

"What stage is that?"

"You know, obsessed with dinosaurs and other assorted things that can kill you."

Emma set the trunk on the ground with a groan of relief, her posture slumping from the weight of it. She took a heaving breath and turned to see him standing right behind her. _Great._

"So you're a rich brat who bought his way onto a prestigious research project that everyone else worked their asses off to be a part of."

It wasn't a question.

"Actually, I'm a professional hunter who stupidly sought a minor in paleontology back in my regrettably prudish and studious college days. A degree that, before now, has never gotten me a job a day in my life. I also happen to have a vast knowledge of the mind of a predator."

"So they run at us, you shoot?" She nodded to the weapon slung over his back.

"Perhaps," he shrugged. "More importantly, I can tell you where to look for what. That _is_ what you're here for, isn't it?" he replied, glancing over his shoulder as he hoisted a heavy looking box up. "Research on the carnivores?"

"You mean you can do that with a minor in paleontology these days? Wow, did I waste _my_ time…" she snorted cynically. "Too bad I didn't meet you sooner."

He snickered at the sarcasm dripping from her words. "Predators are predators and reptiles are reptiles, Sweetheart. What can I say? I excel at what I do. We are _all_ driven by our baser instincts, after all," he purred, passing a little too close by on his way back to the van, "and I know exactly what those are for the bloody meat-eaters. Besides, you'll hardly get anything finished if all you find is bushes and dirt."

"Tell that to David. He's here for the bushes and dirt." She rolled her eyes when he didn't respond and followed. "So what do you hunt?"

"I don't hunt as much as track and study for the benefit of others, hunters, zoologists, spoiled rich brats looking for a thrill," he smirked, borrowing her words. "But let's just say that personally, I have a bit of a thing for crocodiles."

Her eyebrow arched at the insinuation. "You hunt _crocodiles_?"

"I've hunted _a lot_ of things."

"And you don't think that's a little cruel?"

"Not if I ensure it's a situation in which it's them or I, minimal weapons, food, resources - then I find it thrilling." He grinned, teeth flashing white as he leaned against the vehicle in a lazy pose. His arms were crossed over his chest lightly, teeth chewing teasingly at his lower lip.

"That's suicidal."

"That's _Killian_," a man, she thought he'd been introduced as Smee, chimed in with a bit of a sigh as he fumbled with his camera, walking in the direction of the print that they had found earlier. She got from the familiarity that he worked with him, or maybe for him.

"Aye. That it is." He took another step closer to her, glancing up and down appraisingly before meeting her eyes again. "You know, Darling, beasts aren't the only thrill of the hunt that I enjoy."

"Ha. Ha. Yeah, you can go find your thrills somewhere else, buddy," she said, chuckling despite herself and turning back towards the van.

"Saucy lass."

She turned back around to face him, beginning to get irritated with him (or more along the lines of the truth, irritated with herself for not being nearly irritated enough by him). "Here's the thing, I'm here to work."

He nodded, patting the rifle on his shoulder and grinning. "As am I."

"Good."

"After all, I do love a challenge."

"Just keep your eyes on the trees and stay out of my shots."

He stared after her a moment and then chuckled with an amused shake of his head. "This is going to be a fun week, isn't it then, love?"

Emma scoffed and flashed him a humorless smile. "Only if you get eaten."

**The End**

_**Review? Considering writing little snippets of different possible scenes rather than making a multichapter, but for now, this is just a oneshot.**_


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